Tonight after work I went out for a run.For the last couple of days, we've had a ton of fog - I'm talking thicker-than-pea-soup shit. I went out anyway.
It's surreal, running in the fog. Everything is muted, from the lonely call of the foghorn to the muffled sound of the occasional car that drove by. I didn't bring my iPod, so there was no music to distract me - the only sound was my own breathing.
I could only see about 20 feet in any direction, but since I was following the Seawalk it wasn't a problem. I just stared straight ahead and ran.
I did come across a couple of people - some who were out for a run like me, and others who were just walking. It was almost as startling for me as it was for them. (When all you hear is heavy breathing and then some guy comes running by you in the fog, it might scare you just a bit.) It's funny - you'd think we'd have some sort of shared connection, us denizens of the fog - but most people preferred not to make eye contact and weren't social at all. ( Probably thought I was some crazy fucker for running in the dark.)
My favorite parts were when it seemed like I was completely isolated from everything else. It was eerie and relaxing at the same time. (Don't ask me how that even makes sense, but it does.)
I'd like to do it again - but next time I'll pick a more deserted road... and bring a hockey mask.
That'll really scare the shit out of someone.
(In case you were wondering - 6 miles, 45 minutes. Oh yeah.)
Later.
Lonely call of the foghorn? Not likely -- the thing sounds more like the heart machine goes flatline.
ReplyDeleteIt's depressing, it's disappointing, and while I enjoyed clawing my way up Dogwood on Friday, it was the one thing making me itch to get home on Sunday.
It's just one more romantic memory busted all to hell by some bean-counter who thinks he knows a thing about the coast.
Sorry to fly off like that -- me and J discussed this already, so it was waiting to come out.